


Blow You Right to My Door

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Episode Tag, F/M, Het, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camille makes her move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow You Right to My Door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope_bingo on dreamwidth. Prompt: celebratory kiss.
> 
> Just recently discovered this show…and it's one of the few I'm actually okay with the het pairing on.
> 
> Takes place immediately following S2E8 (series/season 2 finale), so slight spoilers if you haven't seen that ep.
> 
> Title is from Sade's song Paradise. This is not a song fic. 
> 
> Many thanks to nebula99 for the beta read/Brit picking.

_Feels like, you're mine_  
 _Feels right, so fine._  
 _I'm yours, you're mine_  
 _Like Paradise._  
Paradise by Sade

Camille has never been so relieved, so _happy_ as when Richard Poole walked around the corner, complaining about losing his luggage again. She smiled; everything was as it should be. The days Richard had been away were some of the longest of her life and she really didn't like to think about why. She knew why. She just didn't want to think about it.

The Commissioner only stayed for a few minutes, leaving his team to celebrate together. As the evening wore on, Fidel (now Sergeant Best) excused himself to get home to his wife and daughter. A short while later Dwayne left with a young lady he'd spied across the bar.

It was just Camille and Richard now. Reaching over, Camille placed her hand over Richard's. He looked up at her. She smiled, again. "Richard, I'm really glad you came back, you know."

He frowned. "I told you I'd be back. You didn't believe me?"

Camille shrugged. "Well, you were back in England. You might have changed your mind once you were there. After all, it's cold, rainy and the food doesn't stare back at you."

"I told you I'd be back. This is my assignment for now," he said, not quite able to meet her gaze. He pulled his hand out from under hers to finish his drink. He glanced at his watch. "I should head home, been a long day and we've an early start tomorrow." Richard reached for his wallet to pay.

"No, it's on us, you know that," Camille said. "C'mon, Richard, I'll drive you home, make sure you haven't forgotten the way," she teased. 

"Oh, that won't be necessary, no," Richard said, looking everywhere but at Camille.

"I don't mind and it's a beautiful night," Camille said. She couldn't help thinking just how adorable Richard looked when he was discomfited.

Sighing, Richard gave in. They walked out to the police jeep and he climbed into the passenger side, glancing at Camille as she climbed in and did up her seat belt.

"How's Harry doing?" Richard asked to break the silence; it was making him uncomfortable. So often, he didn't know what to say when he was alone with Camille if they weren't on a case. She was beautiful and beautiful women weren't the type who usually paid men like Richard Poole any attention.

"He's fine. I only saw him once, but he ate the food I put out for him," she replied. "How was London?"

Richard smiled. "London was London. Cold, wet, and rainy. It was gorgeous," he sighed. 

Camille couldn't help but laugh. "So, what did you do while you were cold, wet and happy?"

"After I made the transfer, I visited my old unit. Not much has changed there," Richard said. He didn't tell Camille how uncomfortable it had really been for him; he was such a non-entity there that it was like they hadn't missed him at all. "I then went and had a proper English dinner with proper and very delicious English tea. It was like heaven."

"I also rang my parents. And made arrangements for my flat to be looked after; I didn't really have a chance to do that before. That's about it, I was only there for a few days."

"Then you returned to hell and they lost your luggage?" she teased.

"God, how hard is it to keep track of ONE suitcase," Richard replied, shaking his head. 

They arrived at the beach and they both climbed out of the jeep, walking to the verandah. There was an awkward silence and Richard shifted from foot to foot. "Uh, thanks for the ride home. And see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay. Tomorrow. Good night, Richard," Camille replied and headed back to the jeep.

"Camille," Richard said. 

"Yes?" she said, turning around.

"There's something I didn't tell you."

Camille walked back to where Richard was standing. "Oh, and what's that?" she asked.

"They offered to let me stay in London. I—"

Camille stiffened. "So when will you be leaving us, then? And why would you let us think you were back for good when you'll be going again. That's really very mean of you—"

"Camille, Camille! I turned them down," Richard said, smiling as what he said finally got through to her.

"You're not leaving? But I thought you hated it here, hated everything about us."

"I hate the heat. And the sun. And the sand is very annoying. But I don't hate everything about Sainte-Marie though. I don't hate you," he paused. "Or Fidel. Or Dwayne," he added quickly.

"You're staying," Camille said. She grabbed him in a hug and planted meant to kiss his cheek, but Richard moved his head and she ended up kissing him on the mouth. 

Both of them pulled back in surprise, staring at one another. Camille reached up to touch the side of Richard's face with her fingertips, trailing them feather light across his cheek. She bit her lip but didn't let her gaze waiver from his.

Richard smiled at her touch and grasped her waist in his hands. "Camille—"

She pressed her mouth against his, cutting off what he'd been going to say. It started out gently but soon turned deeper, passionate. Their mouths were open, tongues sliding together. Camille wrapped her arms around Richard's shoulders, one hand sliding up to the back of his head, her fingers threading through his short hair.

Richard moaned, a low and needy sound. It brought him to his senses. He placed his hands on Camille's shoulders, holding her still while he broke the kiss and stepped away. He was panting as was Camille. "I…we need to stop," he whispered; it was the last thing he wanted to do but it was what he needed to do. 

"Don't you want me, want this?" she asked, perplexed.

"Oh, god, yes. I do Camille, I do," he whispered. He cupped her face in his hands. "But…I can't move so fast. You've seen how I react to change." Richard placed a chaste kiss on her mouth. "I want you, but I really do need to move a bit slower is all. Like maybe we could date for a bit—"

Camille took his hands in hers and stared at him with narrowed eyes. "This isn't just some misplaced sense of…chivalry, because I'm a woman, is it?"

"Um, well, no." 

She raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe a little bit, but it is mostly me. I want this to work out; I don't have a great track record with relationships…so, I'd like to go slow. Do you mind?" he asked softly.

Camille couldn't help but smile. She kissed the palms of his hands before letting them go. "It's fine. I just didn't want you holding back for me, you know?" She leaned in and hugged him. "Slow it is. Then I should say goodnight and go, early start tomorrow and all that."

Richard nodded. "Thank you," he said, kissing her cheek. "And yes, I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early."

"Good night, Richard."

"Good night, Camille," he replied, watching her walk away from him. 

She stopped at the end of the veranda to turn and look at him. "Just one thing, I'm not going to let you drag your feet on this for too long, Richard."

Richard chuckled. "I'm counting on that," he replied. He watched her climb into the jeep and drive off; he was still smiling. Walking inside, Richard had a feeling that he'd be smiling a lot more often now.


End file.
